


Rebuilding

by superangsty



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, If you've read any of my stuff before then you'd know that I suck at tagging things, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), but only sort of, i guess, kind of Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, this is basically them dealing with the aftermath of the battle of new york
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:26:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superangsty/pseuds/superangsty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle of New York is over, but it will probably never leave their minds.<br/>Steve reckons this is fine, as long as they keep moving forwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebuilding

The battle of New York is over, and the Avengers are seated around a table, eating shawarma in a shop that is in pieces.

A shop that is in pieces because of _them_ , Steve reminds himself.

Nobody is speaking; they are all too exhausted to form coherent sentences, can barely keep their heads up, and so they eat in silence. It is not an uncomfortable silence, nor is it a comfortable one. It simply is, because there is nothing that any of them can do to take it away. Steve wonders what, if they could bring themselves to speak, they would say to each other. This was a group of people who barely knew each other, hadn’t even gotten along to begin with, and yet they still came together to save the world. None of them have anything in common, as far as Steve is aware, except for maybe Barton and Romanoff. He can tell they have a history, but of what, he couldn’t say. But no, no common interests to discuss. Perhaps they would discuss the battle? But then again, perhaps not. Today, they had all witnessed more destruction than any person, any _normal_ person, would care to see. That is not the sort of thing that you can integrate into casual conversation.

Natasha is looking at Clint with sad eyes, averting them whenever he looks her way. He knows that look, the one full of the kind of pity that everybody dreads to see. He had seen it in the war, always directed at others, never him. Until one day it was. He doesn’t like to think about that, although the memories still haunt him. Clint, however, Clint does not seem troubled. He is the only one of them that seems unfazed, quietly munching on his food. But anyone could see, in the way that Romanoff is looking at him, that something bad has happened. The kind of bad that would shatter his world. Steve can’t tell what that is, doesn’t know them well enough to understand (and if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t want to know. There is only so much tragedy that one can take in a day). Maybe Clint has blocked whatever happened out of his mind. That would be a good power to have, Steve can’t help but think to himself, the ability to leave your feelings behind. It seems more likely, however, that the archer doesn’t yet know what has happened. He would hate to be there when he finds out, wouldn’t want to witness yet another man falling apart.

He cannot tell how the others feel. Their faces are schooled into neutral expressions, ones that Steve has not yet learnt how to read. He may never get the chance to learn, doesn’t know when he’ll next be seeing them again, if he sees them at all. They were a good team, but they’ve only done this once. Three of them, Barton, Romanoff, and himself, will always work for SHIELD. Maybe together, maybe apart, but at least they will be in the same hands. The rest of the Avengers have no firm ties to SHIELD, other than that they have worked alongside them, but never _for_ them. Tony has his own organisation that Steve is sure he would rather be spending his time on, and Bruce will probably want to go back into hiding, back to wherever he was before all this. The one he finds the most unlikely to return, of course, is Thor. Thor, who is not even from the same planet as them. He does not belong, and so he will not stay.

So maybe this is their last chance to all be in one room together, maybe they should be talking, saying their goodbyes. Instead, they just keep eating.

 

~***~

 

The battle of New York is over, and the reports are in. Thousands of people dead, countless buildings destroyed.

And all because they couldn’t stop it fast enough.

Steve is asked to give a speech at SHIELD, to unveil a memorial wall. His speech is well written, carefully planned out, and he scraps it the minute he stands up at the podium. He cannot deliver something like that, something that seems so impersonal, when he is looking into the faces of agents whose eyes are still raw from crying. If asked, he probably wouldn’t even be able to name a single one of them, and he is once again reminded of how much he despises being this, this public figure. It would have been more fitting if another one of the agents did this. But this is the role he has to take, and he says a few words, painfully reminiscent of what he would have had to say when he was in the army, and he tries to give these people hope. The wall behind him is covered in the names of the deceased, far too many names. He glances at it; some of the names, he doesn’t even recognise. Others, he does, but cannot put a face to the name. There are only some that he truly knew, but not for very long. They died before he could become friends with them.

Besides the general mourning over the loss of good people, Steve does not grieve. He is new to this world, hasn’t formed any proper attachments yet. He thinks, if he misses anyone, it is Agent Coulson. But ‘miss’ isn’t really the right term for it, not exactly. It is more a feeling of regret, that this man was willing to die for the Avengers, even though he wasn’t required to. Steve thinks that they would have been good friends. He will never know for sure, though. It is too late for that. He had looked at old files on the man, wanting to know what they had lost, and discovered that almost all the Avengers but for him had at least associated with him in the past.

Thor had known him when he first arrived on Earth from Asgard. Coulson had been head of the team in New Mexico, where they had found him. He didn’t know how Thor was coping with his death; he was back on Asgard now, dealing with Loki and the tesseract.

Tony had worked with him a few times, might have even considered him to be a friend (vaguely speaking). At the very least, he knew that Pepper Potts had. Tony would never admit it, never let it show, but Steve could tell that the death had hit him pretty hard. Steve felt a desperate need to comfort him, but how, he had no idea. He chose to do it from a distance, making sure that Tony ate enough, that he slept enough. It wasn’t much, but it was all that he felt he could give.

Natasha had been one of Coulson’s closest friends, but he had never seen her shed even a single tear over him. She was a rock, unmoveable, instead putting all her energy into comforting Clint. Looking at the man, Steve could see why she would do that. The few times he saw him, his eyes were red from crying, even weeks after it had happened. His face was that of a broken man, and he put on a smile, and joked with others, but Steve could tell. He wondered if Barton would ever stop mourning the loss of… whatever it was that Coulson had been to him. He somehow doubted that he would.

 

~***~

 

The battle of New York is over, and the Avengers are helping clear up the city.

It’s the least they can do. After all, they had helped to destroy it.

They still haven’t heard from Thor, and Bruce doesn’t, cannot help. For him to be of any help, they would need the Hulk, and Bruce is terrified of doing that again. He is afraid of losing control, of making the damage worse, not better. Nobody believes that he would, but they let him sit it out. They would rather he be happy than helpful. That leaves four of them helping with the effort, clearing rubble, finding out the full extent of the damage.

(Tony says he’ll pay for all of the repairs. Steve starts to respect him even more for this; he hadn’t realised quite how truthful he had been, when he’d said he was a philanthropist.)

There is a _lot_ of rubble. Clint and Natasha, lacking superhuman strength, helped among the ranks of the rest of the clean-up team, those people who cared so much about their city that they volunteered to help restore it. Steve helps clear the larger pieces, making space for the trucks to come through and remove what not even he can lift. He works longer shifts than anyone, from almost the moment he wakes up, to the moment he is ready to collapse from exhaustion. It’s not like he has anything else to do with his time, anyway. Tony, when he’s not too busy writing out cheques for various construction companies, puts on the iron man suit and lifts things (even heavier than what Steve could handle) out of the area. He thinks he sees Tony’s friend, Rhodey, flying around too, but he’s never really sure.

One day, Tony is lifting a slab of concrete that had come up from the road, and the computer in his helmet must have made some kind of error in its calculations, because no sooner than Tony lifts the slab up, he comes crashing back down. Steve waits for him to hit the ground, before running to him. He wonders if this is what a heart attack feels like. Even when Tony lifts up his mask and starts cracking jokes, the feeling lingers, like a heavy weight in his chest, constricting his breathing and making him start to think that maybe death would be preferable.

He takes Tony to SHIELD’s medical department, doesn’t leave his side as they patch him up, taking the time to reassure Steve that he’s fine, the damage is only minor. The pain in his chest doesn’t lift until Tony is leaving, going back to his tower to ‘rest’. It’s unlikely that he _will_ rest, of course, Tony never does as he’s told, but at least he’s safe.

As he watches him walk away, Steve thinks back, tries to work out when it was that he had fallen in love with Tony Stark, and why he hadn’t realised this sooner.

 

~***~

 

The battle of New York is over, and if Steve doesn’t get away from SHIELD HQ, he thinks he’ll go mad.

Tony gives him an offer to move into the tower. It’s probably not the best idea, but he accepts.

The tower seems much too big, too empty, with just the two of them living in it. Steve, who never really had enough space when he was growing up, isn’t sure what to make of it. It’s nice, obviously. The bed is without a doubt the most comfortable he’s ever slept on, and the man in the ceiling (he knew that JARVIS was a computer, couldn’t think of him like that) helps him to choose films and television shows to watch, music to listen to, and books to read. For want of something better to do, he gets caught up on popular culture pretty quickly.

He doesn’t see Tony as often as he’d like. Oddly enough, he’s seeing less of him now that they’re living in the same building than he saw of him when they were apart. It’s disappointing, not being able to talk to him, but he asks JARVIS to keep him updated on how Stark is doing, uses these updates to confirm that he is still healthy and safe. He isn’t always, but Steve tries his best. He carefully hides the alcohol, replacing it with water instead, when Tony is on the verge of drinking himself into a coma. When JARVIS tells him that Tony has fallen asleep in the workshop, he carries him up to his bed, and then he returns to his own room, silently praying that Tony will sleep the whole night through, that he won’t go back to work, burning himself out.

It’s at midnight, on one of the many nights that sleep evades him, that Steve runs into Tony in their shared kitchen. The other man has his back to him, gripping the counter so tightly that his knuckles are white, and he is shaking violently. If he is also crying, Steve wouldn’t know. He cannot see his face. This is nothing like the Tony Stark he had come to know, who always seemed so strong and uncaring. It’s as if he is a completely different person, and Steve isn’t sure whether or not he has a right to be seeing this, if he should stay or if he should return to the safety of his own room.

After a few moments of watching him, Steve can no longer bear to see Tony like this, and he gently lays a hand on his shoulder, hoping that this makes him better, not worse (or at the very least, it makes no difference at all). He’s lucky, however, because the shaking slows, and Tony turns to face him. He looks an absolute wreck, and Steve finds himself at a loss for words. So he does the only thing that his brain is allowing him to do, and he leans forwards to press their lips together.

The kiss is short, Tony pulling away in shock, and Steve pulling away in embarrassment. He can’t help but worry that maybe this was the wrong time, maybe he shouldn’t have done that, but his worrying is cut off when Tony wraps his arms around him, holding on as tightly as he can.

They do not kiss again that night (although there is plenty of that the next morning), instead just returning to bed, the same bed, and holding each other until they both manage to fall asleep. Tony does not talk about what was wrong, and Steve doesn’t ask. Everyone has problems, and everyone prefers to keep them to themselves.

He thinks he could quite happily get used to this, lying across from a sleeping Tony each night.

 

~***~

 

The battle of New York is over, but it will probably never leave their minds.

Steve reckons this is fine, as long as they keep moving forwards.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! (I don't normally write in this tense and I got kinda confused so sorry if it sucked) As always, please leave comments to tell me what you think, or you can now message me on my [tumblr](http://superangsty.tumblr.com)! (I only got tumblr like yesterday, so my blog kinda sucks sorry!)
> 
> I'm working on a few other fics at the moment, so I guess I'll talk to y'all when those are up xx


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